


Like Those Romance Novels

by hollowmagic



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Ignatz Victor is there but he is unimportant, Libraries, Napping, Studying, Writer's Block, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22559266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowmagic/pseuds/hollowmagic
Summary: Bernadetta wants to work on her book, but Linhardt is too distracting.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring & Bernadetta von Varley
Kudos: 13





	Like Those Romance Novels

**Author's Note:**

> Originally wrote this for a class assignment.

The shy, timid, and antisocial girl that is Bernadetta von Varley sneaks into the Monastery library to continue the work on her book. She would not dare let anybody lay eyes on it, she would burn it if it comes to that! There is no better place than the library.

Yet upon entering, she feels as if she is intruding when she catches the sight of her classmate, Lindhardt, fast asleep on a desk made for research. In the faraway corner, almost invisible, is Ignatz from the other class.

Bernadetta meekly considers scampering off to work in the shadows, but with all what little sleep she was working with, her legs nearly cave at the mere thought. She sets her papers on a candlelit table, prepares her quill, and gets into the comfy atmosphere of spruce wood and old, forgotten, smudging pages.

It has been nearing an hour. Bernadetta has an internal crisis when she diagnoses her stubborn case of writer’s block. The chair creaks as she sits back, staring blankly at her barely completed work. Usually she is more prolific than this. Concentrating feels more like an arduous task.

Something is wrong, and she knows it, something is distracting her!

Is it the candle, the way it has shrunk to a few more centimeters before it succumbs to the fire? Is it the table, the way it is scratched and ruins her handiwork? Is it the presence of others, the way they could-possibly-but-maybe-not-sure be looking over her shoulder, reading her work without asking first?

...Well, it could not possibly be Linhardt.

Bernadetta notices the way he is slumped over, his hair sprawled across the mountain of books about Crests and arithmetic. The way he has drool leaking from his mouth, spilling over the pages.

She sees how neat his clothes are, creases outlining the folded areas from the night prior, how his hand rests on the page of a book used as a pillow, mid-turn, as if he had passed out in the split-second his eyes had not been glued to the page. How papers and a quill accompany him, notes jotted down like classwork.

How he almost blends in with this environment, like it is his home. Face pale from lack of sunlight, hiding away indoors to take a nap every now and then, shutting them out as an excuse not to train for battle.

How he yawns, even in his sleep. She recognizes how rarely he uses his smarts, preferring to hide in the back of the brawl, healing his comrades when necessary.

…

Bernadetta brings her attention back to her work. After sitting here with almost nothing done, she ponders if a nap could be her cure. Moving her papers aside, setting her quill inside the ink bottle, the shy, timid, and antisocial girl uses her arms to rest her tired head.

With what little sleep she had been working on, a nap is just what she needs. The calm atmosphere of the library soothes her to sleep. Her own lullaby, the scented incense of the room.

When she wakes, she finds her papers neatly folded, a note telling how amazing the book is, and Linhardt missing from his desk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I love the fact that Bernadetta is secretly a writer. We can all sort of relate to her, huh?


End file.
